You’d think the recent Galle Literary Festival — held annually in Galle, Sri Lanka — would be an event focusing exclusively on intellectual pursuits. But the organisers, bless them, have included a few cultural and culinary sessions as well. When looking at the programme and deciding what talks I wanted to invest my time and money in, I hit upon Fuchsia Dunlop’s four-hour cooking class. Ms Dunlop’s name is closely associated with Chinese cuisine, having written several books on the subject. She often appears on TV shows, and is a consultant to a couple of famous Chinese restaurants in London.

As a semi-serious student of the culinary arts, I am very aware of my almost total ignorance about the traditions and techniques that underpin this varied and rich cuisine. All too often we tend to associate clichés such as sweet and sour prawns and egg fried rice with Chinese cooking. If we are feeling adventurous, we will order Kung Pao chicken. But the truth is that those living outside the Middle Kingdom don’t even scratch the sur­­face of this complex and sophisticated cooking tradition. Wishing to learn more, I signed up for the class that was held at a smart boutique hotel in Galle, with a splendid kitchen overlooking a garden.

There were nine of us sitting on stools and benches around the counter, and some of the more earnest ones took copious notes. To begin with, we were introduced to the more commonly used ingredients. I learned that light soya sauce contains the salty flavour, while the dark variety imparts colour.

We were also shown a bowl of Szechuan peppercorns; these are unrelated to the peppercorns we normally use, and the heat they impart to food causes a puckering of the mouth which numbs the lips. An odd, not unpleasant sensation. Ginger is another commonly used ingredient in Chinese kitchens where cooks slice the root very fine.

In fact the whole business of slicing, cutting, dicing and cubing meat and vegetables is taken very seriously by Chinese chefs. The preferred instrument for these skilled operations is the cleaver. This is not the heavy instrument used to cut bones and large chunks of meat as we know it, but a lighter, finely balanced version. Ms Dunlop demonstrated its use and said she used it for all the cutting and chopping she did in her kitchen. As a knife buff, I can see myself getting one soon. But I know I will never achieve her level of skill with the Chinese cleaver.

All too often, we tend to associate clichés such as sweet and sour prawns and egg fried rice with Chinese cooking.

One of the dishes she prepared was Chairman Mao’s red-braised meat, and the recipe is in Ms Dunlop’s splendid Revolutionary Chinese Cookbook: Recipes from Hunan Province. Apparently Mao loved the dish, and it was served frequently to him by his Hunanese chefs. The Chinese often attribute medical virtues to food, and this dish is supposed to be good for the brain. Space constraints prevent me from giving the full recipe here, but it requires two tablespoons of sugar which, when caramelised, gives the dish a dark appearance, and lends a counterpoint to the salty light soy sauce and chilli that also go in. When cooked, it is sticky, sweet and salty.

A thin broth with spring onions was another of the dishes our teacher cooked, and a wonderful, light salad was the third. All these preparations were put on the dining table for lunch, and it was some of the best Chinese food I have ever had. Ms Dunlop has spent several years in China learning the language as well as cooking, and clearly, the hard work has paid off. But when I asked her if she had ever considered opening her own restaurant, she laughed and said that as she had not worked in one when she was younger, she would be sure to lose money if she were to start one. I knew what she meant as both of us had read Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential in which he discloses the many ways in which owners can get ripped off by chefs.

Have fun in the kitchen, is the message, but don’t put your money into an expensive venture about which you don’t know enough.

Published in Dawn, Sunday Magazine February 12th, 2017